When bright-faced Lulu had returned home, brief though her visit had been, Harold missed her inexpressibly. To vary the monotony of his dreary rooms, he paid his promised call in Victoria Square, to find himself promptly relegated to the background by Miss Waller, who perfectly understood how to snub people without being unladylike. May, who made tea, hardly uttered a word; and the lion of the occasion was Mr. Lang, who expatiated on the riches of South Africa and his own importance on the Randt. "You're nowhere unless you've got money nowadays," he confidently asserted. "Oh, but"--expostulated a meek little clergyman's wife, looking rather shocked, "surely culture goes for something--and descent--and----" "Culture, descent, my dear madam! We haven't time to bother about such things at Johannesburg! They'd be no use to a man there!" "I'm sorry to hear it," Harold was provoked into saying. "My brother Jack is out there, and I shouldn't like him to come back less of a gentleman than he went!" "What's he doing?" disdainfully drawled the plutocrat. "He is in the office of the Victorina Mine." "Ah! a good property that--not equal to the Springkloof, though. I know the Victorina manager; perhaps next time I go out, I may look your brother up." "How kind of you, Mr. Lang!" gushed Miss Waller; but Harold never said a word. "Well now, Miss Waller," said Mr. Lang, "it's time I was returning to London, and don't you think you ought to give Mrs. Burnside a little taste of dissipation before the season closes?" "I should have taken her to London before, but dear May always says she doesn't like town," answered the spinster, who always posed as a most affectionate aunt in public. "I must leave you to try _your_ persuasions." As she spoke, she darted a glance at her niece which plainly said, "Refuse to go, if you dare!" "London is so hot now--and Doris----" faltered the girl in manifest dismay. The clergyman's wife took her departure, but Harold sat doggedly on, determined to hear the result. "Doris could be left behind perfectly well," rejoined Mr. Lang, who disliked the child as much as she disliked him. "We shall be very pleased to see a little of London under your auspices, Mr. Lang," interrupted Miss Waller, in a sub-acid tone. "I know of some nice rooms near Hyde Park, which will be quieter than a hotel, and I'll write about them to-night." May said no more; but Harold perceived an expression of absolute despair flit over her features for a moment, and his heart swelled with pity for her. He paced his lonely sitting-room many times that evening, lamenting his own impotence. A few patients, poor people to whom he was at home for an hour, mornings and evenings, came to consult him for a fee of one shilling, medicine included; but even these were few in number. He had the very deepest sympathy with the poor; but to be wasting his time here when, in a few days, Mrs. Burnside would be staying close to that man in Palace Gardens!